From Chainmail to D&D Next

What makes an edition special.

Betrayal at House on the Hill

For those of you that missed last night special Halloween Session, We played “Betrayal at House on the Hill”. It was a fun board game of exploration and betrayal. An elderly priest took a bunch of kids out to explore a haunted house where a bunch of murders took place. One of the Children a relative of Crimson Jack the Serial Killer, summoned him and tried to kill the rest of us. Luckily a young boy found a spear that had the power to banish Crimson Jack.

It was a great time, with a little bit of Irish Whiskey. I look forward to seeing everyone at our next regularly scheduled game.

No, Mr. Nidhogg, I expect you to die!

Finding little of value on the remains of the unfortunate guards, the group noticed skyscrapers on the horizon. Good enough place to start! As they prepared to move out, Nidhogg felt a familiar pressure in his head. The Raven Queen reminded him of his mission. “The king of Karanath is building armies with the undead! He must be stopped!” The becoming god Immortan Julius attempted to teleport the group to this (presumably) distant kingdom, only to meet with failure. He and Oglethorp began to phase out, but the rest of the group was not affected. Someone or something must have noticed, though the group was unaware.

While traveling the road to the distant city, the Prophet Oglethorp announced the passage of his god, Immortan Julius. Several converts were found and seeded with Julius’ sand, his mark left upon them, shiny and chrome. As the day wore on, and miles fell behind them, the group realized that this city in the distance is further than they thought. The group began to spread out on the road, content to travel with their own thoughts. This was almost their undoing, for a malevolent force was watching them.

Nidhogg, trailing at the end of the group, felt the approach of his god’s enemy. So well hidden was this enemy however, Nidhogg didn’t have time to respond, as a spectre lightly touched his arm. He reeled back, his scales turned ashen, as he felt his life begin to drain away. The warlock Rusty Van Crow, quiet for the past several days, is the first to come to the aid of Nidhogg. He summons which fire and casts it at the spectral enemy, and with dismay, watches as the spell passes through the apparition, leaving it unharmed. Fellow warlock Pippers attempts the same, but his spell backfires, he barely escapes damage himself! Houzi flies to his friend’s side, fists thrown faster than the eye can see, but his fists feel only air where the spectre’s body floats.

The fight continues, the floating figure reeking havok nearly unchecked. A human mage comes upon the epic battle, flying to the aid of the living. His spells are ineffective, doing nothing more than drawing the spectre’s ire, saving Nidhogg from a life-ending blow. He falls to his knees, as the spectre drains his essence.

The becoming god Immortan Julius wades into the fray. He knows he has no attack that can harm the spectre, and so attempts to reason with the spirit. His words find the same empty air as the spells and strikes of his companions, however. Dragon’s breath is released, but the spectre remains unharmed, it’s dead face showing the faintest hint of a cruel smile. It has taken very little damage. The air grows cold, the entire group seems to age momentarily, and Nidhogg succumbs to his injuries. The spectre is nearly whole again.

The group recovers, but sensing that this foe is beyond them, several members begin to flee. Glod the dwarven warlord, however, doesn’t know the meaning of retreat (literally). Though his attacks seem almost pointless, he continues to fight on. Houzi, now empowered by his god, continues fighting as well, refusing to leave his friend to the spectre. Bit by bit, the spectre weakens, and second by second, Nidhogg grows closer and closer to death.

Finally, with a furious simian cry, Houzi strikes the spirit, sapping it of it’s last remaining essence. The ghost is defeated. Nidhogg is stablized, and soon opens his eyes. The party emerges, unscathed by the agent of the One-Eyed God.

Or, that darn bag again!

When we last left our stalwart heroes, they had decided to return to the town from whence they came, in order to find out more about John Conner’s affliction. Sounds like good intentions, and we all know where that leads…..

As my followers and I came back to town A-7921-Beta, my data banks pulled information regarding subject H-M1198902, known as Christopher Angle. He is extremely intelligent, and I calculated that he may have an acceptable solution to the problem with subject H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER and his corrosive blood.
Upon entering town A-7921-Beta, I had D/B-87985 Ogl- zzZZZTTpp- VINCENT use the local wisp messaging service to contact H-M1198902 Christopher Angle. His response suggested placing H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER into a provided magical bag of holding. I detected a variance in the special displacement of the bag, calculating a 79% fatality chance for any life form placed inside. This was offset by the perceived intelligence of H-M1198902 Christopher Angle. As a result, H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER was placed inside. PRIMARYOBJECTIVECOMPLETE – subject H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER is safe. Closing file.
The bag began releasing fine sand, identical to the reaction caused by exposure of H-P1101927362 JOHN CONNER’s blood to the local atmosphere. My group then exited the building currently inhabited, as the amount of the sand began to displace us. While passing through the doorway, I detected a possible dimensional shift. This was confirmed soon, as we discovered we had arrived in locale Alpha-0011 Sigil. FILE 1890212 ACTIVATED. DEITYACQUIREMENTSUBROUTINECOMMENCING. Capacitor charge at 7%.
Encountering local inhabitants, we are informed that it is a requirement to be sponsored by a deity in order to be allowed access to locale Alpha-0011 Sigil. My group is increased by two, H-W/L8321 Pippers and D-L/W99275 Glod Hammerpants. Their dialect is nearly undecipherable. Capacitor charge at 34%.
My group is lead to a market and placed on sale. While my followers attempt to bargain their own release, I demonstrate the strength in my model, lifting items within the market. Capacitor charge at 79%.
Having lost any hope of escape, the various members of my group fall to their knees, praying to their gods. All but D/B-87985 Ogl- zzZZZTTpp- VINCENT receive a response/blessing from their chosen deity.
Capacitor charge at 100%. Deity search inconclusive. Capacitor overload imminent. Redirect power to reserves. ERROR-ERROR-err-zzztp. Deity achieved. Reassign D/B-87985 Ogl- zzZZZTTpp- VINCENT, new designation R-P0001 BROTHERVINCENT.
My followers, endowed with new powers and marks by their chosen deities, are now considered to be sponsored and allowed to leave the market.
It is now believed that the previous world inhabited, P-E721, has been irreparably damaged by sand, covering the entire world. Reassess safety of H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER. H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER is not within P-E721, as bags of holding are connected to a separate dimension. Assessment complete: H-P1101927362 JOHNCONNER is safe.

Self-assessment protocol concludes that the presence of my followers in locale Alpha-0011 Sigil has a 97.237% of death at our current combat effectiveness. I allow my followers to decide to vacate locale Alpha-0011, choosing a dimension with the highest likelihood of fellow warforged to activate religion protocols.
A door is chosen. I have determined that the group must see themselves as vital for the near future. I allow them to believe they have chosen door D-P98743215948136 themselves. Upon passing through door D-P98743215948136, we are attacked by seven guards. Analysis- there is no need to assign designations, the guards will be dead in less than 5 minutes, with a 83% probability.
The new followers, H-W/L8321 Pippers and D-L/W99275 Glod Hammerpants prove to be useful, causing massive damage to several of the guards. H-M783 Houzi Nanren was also a very effective combatant, managing to take out nearly half the guards himself. R-P0001 BROTHERVINCENT supported H-M783 Houzi Nanren, nearly killing him with a breath blast.
Open investigation 234 (secondary). Is R-P0001 BROTHERVINCENT attempting to murder H-M783 Houzi Nanren?
Despite following us through the doors, M-W/L3483252 (Sean’s dude) was practically useless.
With the combat decided, I will now assign a designation to this new world. W-S/P120.
My followers begin to determine what we will do next. Faint signal received. Warforged in this world acknowledge my existence. They have begun analyzing validity of the deity protocol. I calculate a 58.235% of heresy.

Ok guys, sorry for the late post. Life and procrastination have conspired against me! I’m not sure I’ll stick to my plan of doing the logs from each party member’s perspective, it feels kinda invasive to me. Roleplaying your roleplaying characters and all. (Though Immortan Julius was fun as heck!)

How these two incompetents first met and why they work together

Hey Guys, it’s Stephen. I’m working on the story of how my character (Glod Hammerpants the warlord) and my brother Jim’s character (Pippers the warlock) first met, and how they ended up meeting the rest of the party. The story is three pages long so far, and I haven’t actually introduced Glod Hammerpants yet, but he’s coming! Here it is so far:

“Never trust a fairy. That’s all I have to say…” The halfling finally said. He had been sitting in moody silence for twenty minutes and six beers, but it seems that alcohol had loosened his tongue.

“Of course not.” Klog replied, “everyone knows that you can’t trust fairies.” The half-Orc wasn’t particularly interested in what the halfling had to say; when you serve drinks to gods and monsters in the hub of the multiverse, you quickly become jaded to tales of woe. Still, it couldn’t hurt to keep the poor man talking. Chatty patrons tended to drink more if they thought someone was listening.

The halfling looked up at Klog with bleary bloodshot eyes; even after everything Klog had seen he was still surprised at how much alcohol the tiny man could drink. “No no no,” the halfling slurred, “everyone get’s told that they can’t trust fairies, but… but they don’t really know, right? Not me, though. I know. I really know. And lemme tell you-” his rant was cut short by a loud belch. “Do you know,” he began again, “do you know why you can’t trust those sparkly bastards?”

“Ha!” The little guy chuckled bitterly, “is that what you think? You don’t have no idea at all! Lemme tell you a story…”

Pippers placed the last bottle at the base of the altar. It wasn’t much of an altar, just an old crate decorated with as many old bottles, wilted flowers, shards of glass, and scraps of cloth that the young halfling could steal or salvage. If someone had walked into Pippers’ tenement, they probably would have wondered why he had gone to such trouble to pile his garbage in the middle of the room. But the altar was shiny and colorful, and according to the ratty moldering copy of Et Pertingens Velum Vili –the book Pippers had spent his last eight coppers on- bright lights, colors, and flowers were what really mattered to draw the attention of a fairy.

Pippers hadn’t originally set out to summon a fairy; he had first bought the book hoping to make a pact with a demon. But demons are so hard to summon; where could a poor halfling get a goat in a city like Thestleport? And making a pact with the eldritch gods was even less likely; Pippers could barely convince his landlady to not evict him, he probably couldn’t talk anyone into sacrificing themselves to a sleeping squid-god. And even most rituals to summon fairies required wood from still-living trees; Pippers had been forced to flee Thistleport eight years ago after he was caught stealing from the mayor, hiding out in an old barn had been the first and last time he had seen any kind of tree, living or otherwise. But the last spell in the book looked easy enough for Pippers, and it wasn’t like he had anything left to lose.

“Magnus valebat!” The altar seemed to softly glow, the colors becoming more vivid against the dreary backdrop of the tenement room. “Sortes de ludum!”

“Pulchra corde, fortis et fidelis,” The altar shone like a pile of gems beneath the noonday sun, the rags and bottles shining with the iridescent colors of a rainbow. Above the dazzling display a vague shape was beginning to take form. “Participando bonitatem!”

“Suus ’an securus perpetratae rei,” The phantasmal outline of a woman appeared above the rainbow altar. The smell of sugar and fresh honey filled the air. “ET MAGICAEARTISFACITPERFECTAEST!”

The fairy appeared in a burst of laughter. Pippers could only stare in wonder and awe at the magnificent and giant creature. Her shapely legs went straight through the altar and her kaleidoscopic wings spread through the walls of the room, but she seemed more real then any of it, as if the filthy little apartment was an illusion and she was the only real thing in the world.

“Greetings, young Pippers,” she began, her voice like a choir of angels, “I am Sparklædy, fairy queen of wild dreams. Why have you summoned me?”

Pippers stammered stupidly for a minute before finding his voice. “I, um… I…” He had planned to be forceful to the fairy, to demand power; but now he couldn’t even muster the nerve to stand up, “I just… I just want to be strong!” he suddenly blurted out as the emotions he had repressed for years came flooding back. “My whole life I’ve been small and weak and everyone always picks on me and pushes me around and, and… and I just want to be able to fight back! I want to be the one who pushes people around, I want to be the one in charge! I just don’t want to be a pathetic little wimp anymore!”

Sparklædy watched this breakdown silently, her shimmering face showing a tinge of almost motherly affection. At last, she spoke, “Your words move me, young Pippers. I would grant you your dreams of power, but such a gift cannot be given for free. Those who receive their wildest dreams must in turn help realize the dreams of others. Would you use your power to serve me, young Pippers? Would you swear your soul to my service, and become my champion on this world and those beyond?”

“Then rise, my champion,” Sparklædy intoned, “Rise and receive your power.” She placed one iridescent hand on Pippers forehead. The halfling could feel the power flowing through him like fine wine. His eyes took on a shimmering rainbow glow as he fully absorbed his new powers “With this gift I bind you to my service. From now until the end of days you shall be mine, in body and in soul. But before you can truly take your place as my champion, three tasks you must achieve.

Three dreams I see and three dreams you must help realize. In the ancient windswept castle an old warrior dreams of glory. On a holy pilgrimage a man born of dragons but bound to a raven dreams of slaying his one-eyed foe. And in the land where all lands are joined, a man of iron that does not sleep dreams of ascension to the immortal realms. These three dreams must be realized, and then ultimate power shall be yours.

Go now, my servant. Go north, to the ancient castle of Khulzmft, and begin your quest.” Sparklædy disappeared in a flash of color and sound so dazzling that it left Pippers utterly stupefied.

Eventually the halfling returned to his senses. He pulled himself to his feet while trying to get his bearings. It hadn’t been a dream, Pippers could feel the arcane power within him, but it was just a tiny taste compared to the full power Sparklædy had shown him. He supposed he would have to complete the three tasks before getting the rest of his power. The first two seemed easy enough, some old warrior wanted glory; in Pippers limited experience the word “glory” meant dying in some heroic battle, and that wouldn’t be too hard to arrange. The second task seemed straightforward as well, how hard could it be to hunt down some one-eyed guy? The third task seemed harder; “in the land where all lands are joined, a man of iron that does not sleep dreams of ascension to the immortal realms”. Pippers had no idea what any of that meant. But he knew where to start: Sparklædy said north, to a castle called Khulzmft.

A God is Born

//TODO: Matt, I just provided an outline of events, please create some beautiful prose.

Returned to the city of Eldolan

Magically Scanned for contraband

Discover more people are being turned into statutes

Wrote letter to Christopher Angel, who suggested putting the kid in the bag of holding.

Julius and Bronze tricked John Conner, and place him in the bag

Sand start pouring out of the bag filling the room and soon the whole city, will it ever stop.

The Bag starts glowing, the glow soon spread to the whole inn, Our heroes trying to escape opened a door and walked between the glowing door frame and flung themselves in Sigil.

A Pocket Astral Dimension destroyed and World forever changed, has angered many a god/demon/devil they may soon be seeking their revenge.

Lost and confused a heavenly Deva, whose name is now speakable by mortal tongue, took pitty on our heroes and hope to earn many favored with their benefactors, took them in for sale. Her aid Jesaja took them to an inn and fed them.

Each player’s benefactor granted a favor and will make a request

Julius – being an empty husk became a vessel for power, will this power grow.

Bronze – arch-knowledge the power growning within Juliu and became his profit. he is tasked with cultivating this growing power

Houzi – Gained greater agility in his animal for, and must save his dying race, and prove the greatness of Simians above that of sex crazed prolific Humans (Lets come up with some more detailed quest Matt).

Nidhog – Gained the War Hammer Morning Star slayer, and most continue to whip the minions of the one-eyed god from the lands of the living, eventually taking his fight to the feet of the gods themselves.

Pippers – Fey master will feed on his kills, vines of Bleeding heart flowers will grow from his victims, giving his spells more power for each fallen foe of that day.

Glod Hammerpants – joined Pippers in the service of his spring court Fey Queen, what he has gained is still a mystery

Rusty Van Crown – Warlock Master will make demands and grant a boon, but what those are remains a mystery.

After promising to grant hospitality and protection to other followers of the Deva, The part departed for a world that has escaped

After much deliberation, or heroes found a door that takes them to Eberron.

Our Heroes sudden appearance in the middle of a filed of Wheat, scared the local military quarter master, who sent a squad to investigate and detain prisoners.

The Squad was dully dispatched by our heroes with hardly a scratch received. But what new enemy have they made in their first few minutes in this new world.

Or How to Catch a Punch With Your Face

The group wakes up after an uneventful night, rested from yesterday’s fight. Arnie (Julius), the lovable Warforged automaton, provides their wakeup call, blaring an alarm that startles any life within a mile. This attracts a passing peacelock, Erlabald. “I have been looking for you!” he says. "I am tasked with assisting your quest, bringing this boy to the Queen. The two dragonborn glance at each other, both wondering how this will complicate things.
They prepare to continue their journey, but encounter three humans on the road, claiming to be working for the Queen, and offering to take John Conner off our group’s hands. John Conner heroically hides in a tree as the three approach. Houzi climbs the same tree in his monkey form, and spies a sigil on the shield of the lead Queensman. It’s the sign of Bane, evil god of war. Houzi hops down, playing the part of a monkey familiar, and subtly informs the group of the affiliation of the approaching humans.
When asked about John Conner, Rusty Van Crow lies convincingly, saying John Conner was killed in yesterday’s attack. “That doesn’t make sense, the whole town would have been destroyed!” Bronze-Ogkthorpe Klaxton III offers to show the site of John Conner’s ‘demise,’ two of the three elect to ride to the nearby sand pile. Houzi, still acting as a familiar, follows them as a safe distance. However, before reaching the remains of John Conner, the two see a flash of light from the group behind, and notice Houzi for the first time, still thinking he is nothing more than a monkey. They turn back to investigate.
Houzi takes the flash as his queue. With a quick prayer to Kord to witness his battle prowess, he leaps to the first of the two horsemen, shifting to his accustomed fighting form, half monkey, half man. To his dismay and shame, his first blows are knocked aside by the man’s armor. Landing, Houzi turns to prepare his next attack, only to be struck by the first horseman’s sword, knocking Houzi to the ground, dazed. With the pounding of Arnie’s feet as he rushes to assist Houzi in the background, the horsemen are taken aback by the nearly feral grin coming from the monk. “I love a good fight!” he laughs as he launches another flurry of attacks.
Houzi moves with a speed unslowed by his injury. Striking his opponents too fast for them to see, much less defend against. Each punch and kick an offering to his god, he pummels the horsemen. Houzi’s joy of the fight is cut short, however, as a wildly thrown attack from one of the horsemen manages to connect, purely by luck. If not for his injuries, Houzi would have shrugged away this minor blow.
The sword connects, and Houzi’s world fades to black. As he falls, he sees Arnie tackle a horse, bringing down one of the men. He feels the change as he hits and knows that his body lays on the ground, a blood-covered monkey. The world becomes dark, he feels no pain. He sees a light, Kord’s sportsground approaching. Houzi knows his last battle was his worst. To stand in Kord’s lands killed as he was would be everlasting shame. Still, he nears the realm of his god.
Houzi feels a tug, though he has no body, he feels scaly flesh grabbing onto him, Niddhogg drawing him back to the land of the living. All goes black.
Houzi opens his eyes. His companions surround him, even the rude Bronze-Ogkthorpe. They have managed to defeat the remaining two men, undoubtedly because of the crippling damage Houzi inflicted upon them. While tending their wounds, it is decided to travel back to the mage’s college. The group must know what caused the disintegration of John’s attacker yesterday, and why John’s death could have caused the same to happen to a town almost a day’s ride away. John only knows that he has been experimented upon, he does not want to be stuck by any more needles, taking samples of his blood.
Arnie promises to keep John safe, no matter the cost. John then teaches Arnie an elaborate handshake.

The King has given orders to keep John Conner safe and not to let harm come to him.

The war forged, Julius, made a frontal assault on the wizard school, looking for john conner, enraging several wizards in the process, our Monk in his monkey form rode on his shoulder laughing. Luckly One of the Drgaon born was a smooth talker, and the wizards seemed happy to be done with John Conner.

After rushing to get a carriage and out of town with minimal hassle, and good bluffing, They were attacked by a group of Orcs. They divide their forces so they could protect John Conner. and fight the main Orc units. Once the orcs got John Conner away from his protectors, a blinding flash turned several Orcs into sand.

It was a long and bloody fight with main unit of the Orc forces, everyone had to use their powers and the fight was won by the smallest margins.

Oops, We unleash a skeleton army on the city

The Silver Shields have stop paying for their rooms at the Inn and can no longer condone their actions. How far do the thieves guild arms reach into the government.

Discover that lieutenant Graphon, is known to be incorruptible.

Vist the Magic School for new spells

Intimidate the young roughens keeping tabs on our heroes

Atryum and Christopher meet with the Drow wizard. He tries to persuade Christopher to give up on seeking the evil of under dark. He give Christopher a contact with the Drow underground Railroad, in hopes seeing the horrors will change his mind. The Drow Wizard also tells Artyum he can not help him, but seek out the Queen of the High Elves she may know of a cure, that will purify him of the filth of humankind. He express his sorrow, and horrors of an elf becoming a man.

Soybean and Wind two thief’s want to join the rival guild, our heroes are forming. Christopher and Artyum send them out to prove themselves.

Party splits up

Bret Rock searches the new stronghold, finding a log book of payments, and a book of inventory. Maybe they can form a new guild with this information.

Christopher run out on the street screaming his challenge to the Necromancer, an old man hands him a bag of bone with a note.

Than Christopher and Alessero, find a busy tavern. Follow the Necromancer’s letter they summon 12 skeletons to kill 12 people. Alessero hold closed the front door, but has to fight some of the larger bar patrons. While Chris covers the back door with magic missiles.

Christ and Alessero finding they are short one body, find a street urchin and murder him.

Artyum follows his swords directions and slays a lawful and loyal Silver shield, taking her magic armor and dagger.

Artyum’s sword detects an invisible assassin, and save his life. After eluding the assassin and returning to their new strong hold

Bret challenges the possible evil that Artyum may of been doing, but accepts his claim that the magic armor and dagger was from the assassin, after seeing the arrows embedded in his plate mail. What evil lies in the hearts of men.

Christopher Angle and Alessero return with Alessero the worse for wear. Telling a tail of an initiation with the Necromancer.

Christopher also is now claiming to have found a way to contact the necromancer that may lead the party to him, without having to deal with diabolist.

Chris is showing his skill in healing, helping everyone to recover a little bit faster after a night of rest.

Our party is slowly turning Neutral Evil, as all adventuring parties are woe to do. A night of horrors is the head line in the morning Callers are crying, Guards murdered and skeleton attacks on the public street, is no place safe. Even the numerous bodies of respected community organizers and protectors have been found.

Where are the Silver shield, are they only protecting the rich. Not just the poor, but the trades men and the merchants are becoming restless demanding action.